


"Let's do the Carribean, Oz, it'll be great!"

by Eussoros



Category: RWBY
Genre: AU of an AU, M/M, Qrow Branwen is a femme fatale dont @ me, as is qrow, im back on my bullshit, ironqrow shipwright au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22749403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eussoros/pseuds/Eussoros
Summary: Qrow Branwen is the shipwright aboard theBeacon, a private educational sailing schooner. Life is great. Then the ship is caught in a nasty storm. The ship needs repairs; the crew needs supplies; Oscar, the captain's nephew (supposedly), needs a doctor; and Qrow needs some new pants. When they finally find a safe harbor in the tiny island nation of Atlas, they find that the ship's accounts have been frozen. In order to get the ship and crew what they need, Qrow must summon all of his chaotic bi energy, and go back on his face character conman bullshit. Easy peasy. But there's one con he never could quite pull off - the leader of the Atlas military, General James Ironwood. His ex.
Relationships: Marrow Amin/Clover Ebi, Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood, Raven Branwen/Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long, background seamonkeys - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	"Let's do the Carribean, Oz, it'll be great!"

**Author's Note:**

> I'M MAKING AN AU OF AN AU AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME
> 
> This is an AU of 'give me one tall ship to sail', my feel-good modern-day Ironqrow shipwright AU. It can absolutely be read on its own tho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~*This is completely unedited and poorly informed from a seamanship perspective*~

“‘Let’s do the Carribean, Oz, it’ll be great! Clear skies and blue water as far as the eye can see, white sand beaches, scantily clad attractive people feeding us grapes! _What could go wrong?_ ’” Qrow Branwen, master shipwright of the schooner _Beacon_ , muttered to himself as he clipped in to the lifelines. “I always have to open my big mouth, don’t I?”

His words were lost to the howling wind and rolling thunder of the storm. It raged around the ship, whipping up the seas and making the whole vessel shudder and groan under its force. Though it was near noon by the ship’s clock, the sky was black with clouds, and the waves that tossed the ship about were about the same. The deck and rigging were crawling with people, the whole crew turned out to coax _Beacon_ through the storm.

The ship pitched and rolled, a wave of green seawater washing over her deck. Amidships, Fox and Velvet staggered as they fought a thrashing line; as Qrow watched, Coco, sure-footed and confident even in the storm, caught the line and held it steady for long enough for the other two to catch their footing and double-check their lifelines. On the other side, tall and steady Yatsu secured a sliding deck chest.

Qrow wedged himself against a capstan and looked up into the rigging. He could just make out Ruby’s obnoxious red foulies through the driving rain; the rest of the rigging crew were in the standard yellow ones, but his niece had always been adamant about her ‘aesthetic.’ Amusement warmed him for a moment. He counted the bright raincoats, and predictably came up short. They never could coax Sun into wearing proper foul weather gear. Qrow twisted around with the roll of the ship - there, at the top of the mainmast. A light flashed steadily against the clouds. Good. For all his peculiarities, Sun was a good rigger, and it would be a damn shame to lose him to a storm.

At the helm, Peter and Bart wrestled with the ship’s wheel. Glynda stood just in front of the wheel, surveying the chaos with her usual slightly irritated calm and occasionally issuing orders via radio. At the very stern, at the covered table they’d dubbed the captain’s hutch, Ozpin poured over map and radar. Qrow winced. If they’d been reduced to a paper map, they must be well in the shit indeed. Not much they could do about it, though, except keep the ship in one piece and trust Ozpin to navigate them out of the storm. And avoid losing anyone over the side.

Qrow continued going through his mental checklist as he made his way forward. Tai and Raven were below, tending to the engine. Hopefully they’d manage to get it back online soon, and they’d get another advantage against the storm. Summer was in the galley, keeping Oscar occupied with helping her make sandwiches. Qrow felt bad for the kid; it sucked, being stuck cowering below in a storm, but he was just too young to risk on deck. At least this way he could feel useful. 

Neptune was tucked safely in a bunk, being seasick; Qrow almost admired his ability to keep a delicate stomach after a solid month at sea. He really wasn’t sure why the young man insisted on sailing; as a really quite decent sailmaker, he’d make better money if he just set up a loft in some port. Though, his attachment to Sun probably had something to do with that.

Jaune and Pyrrha were working the manual bilge pumps. They’d sprung a leak along the garboard; there wasn’t much Qrow could do about that until they could haul out in a proper drydock. He’d patched it as best they could, but until they hit port every pump on board was running constantly. It wouldn’t be enough to sink them, but it was annoying.

He’d honestly rather have Pyrrha on deck; she was an incredibly experienced sailor for her age. But, as he approached the bow of the ship, he could see that Ren and Nora seemed to be doing quite well handling the foresails under Peach’s direction. Qrow continued his rounds, checking the known weak spots on the bowsprit. He’d have to speak to Oz about that; even if it pulled through this storm, they had to replace it when next they made port. The deep cracks in the spar had only grown as it flexed under the wind and the weight of the sails. The iron bands they’d forged around it seemed to be holding it together for now, but Qrow would rather not trust it any further than they had to. 

Speaking of which…

Qrow braced himself against the forward hatch and peered up at the foremast through the rain. He wiped the water out of his eyes. A long crack marred the mast, black with tar and bound in iron, much the same as the bowsprit. Was the crack moving, as the mast flexed? Was it longer than it was yesterday? 

Qrow thumbed his radio. “Let’s lose some canvas on the foremast, if we can. I don’t like how the mast and sprit are bending.”

Oz’s voice crackled with static through the radio. “ _Agreed. Engines will be online shortly. Sun, drop all canvas forward except the flying jib, and get on deck._ ”

Figures in the rigging were already moving; the red coat and two yellow started climbing down the ratlines, while the remaining yellow coat lingered on the formast and the flashing light moved on the mainmast.

“ _It’s gonna be a hard drop, Capt’n._ ” Sun crackled over the radio. “ _The top stay’s fit to snap-- SHIT--_ ”

There was a mighty roar of splintering wood, more felt through the timbers of the ship than heard over the roaring of the storm, and Qrow watched as the crack in the foremast twisted. 

“LOOSE ALL RIGGING,” he roared at Peach, Nora, and Ren, praying they could hear him over the storm. “IT'S COMING DOWN!” He saw Ren leap for the nearest pinrail before he himself turned to frantically start cutting the one jib that was set up free. He brought down his rig knife once, twice, and the thick rope of the sheet line snapped; the bowsprit groaned as the tension on it was eased, then again when it was released and the jib flapped wildly overhead.

Qrow spun to see Peach and Nora hacking at the halyards that were tied off about the mast. Good spirit, but wrong idea; the shrouds were still in place. Then Ren popped up out of the forward hatch with a pair of hatchets, offering him one. Qrow took it, and nodded to the windward shrouds, sending Ren to hack away at them. The thicker, reinforced line of the shrouds wouldn’t give way for a knife, no matter how robust. Qrow paused at the windward rail, looking up to check the rigging again. One of the girls had been up there still. Was--

_**CRRRRAAAAACKKK** _

The foremast twisted once more, and tore itself in half. The top half fell over the side, trailing loose lines and dragging ones still secured - and a figure in bright yellow foulies fell with it.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are friends and comments are love. Yes, even just '<3' or 'extra kudos.' Every one gives me life.


End file.
